Our Time Now
by alyssialui
Summary: Everyone else has gone back in time and hooked up with someone: Hermione, Ginny, even Neville! What’s wrong with me? What am I not doing? Almost nothing to do with the PWT's song
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Everyone else has gone back in time and hooked up with someone: Hermione, Ginny, even Neville!! What's wrong with me? What am I not doing?  
**

Disclaimer: I do not own Ron, the Marauders, etc. But I do own the O/C, which will come in later chaps.

**Chapter 1**

Broodingly, the red-haired teenager kicked at the snow drift. The wind whistled through the oak trees in the distance, his red-and-gold scarf caught in the gust, his hands stuffed deep down in his pockets. His shadow extended in front of him, long and thin. The discarded flakes were taken up into the air before blending seamlessly back into the million of its kin.

_Story of my life…_ Ron rarely showed his feelings. Early in his life, he realized that no one really paid attention, his parents being too preoccupied with Ginny's newest scrape, Fred and George's latest and strangest pet or Charlie and Percy's recent report card. Ron was the post middle-child, his time as the last-child lasting only a year long, a year he couldn't remember. He must have been happy then, all the attention of a newborn on him. He saw other couples with babies in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. He wished he got that kind of one-on-one attention.

If anyone asked Hermione, he could only be angry and hungry and she was sort of right. Usually he only showed anger and hunger, the only two emotions that really mattered, anger that got all eyes looking at you, regardless of whatever you were angry about, and hunger, simple sustenance and his mom being an excellent cook, her doting on him was the best kind of attention.

But Ron was deeper than that, just not often. Now was a time of weakness. A sense of depression and self-pity had washed over Ron. He has excused himself from dinner early, something that should have alerted his friends to a problem. He said something about a stomachache or else, he forgot his alibi. But it didn't matter. They let him go and continued their lively conversation without a second glance. In frustration, Ron kicked at another pile of snow. _Such caring friends._

Don't get Ron wrong. There were times when his friends were there for him, especially when he wasn't feeling that confident. But Ron knew how to mask his feelings from his years of slight neglect. He'd cover it with jokes and smiles, hoping not the get others upset or pity him for what he was feeling. But his friends… he needed his friends for the little attention he got.

His feet led him closer and closer to the Forbidden Forest, the sound of the snow crunching under his feet. His mind eventually caught up with them when the trees cast a black shadow on the snow underfoot. Looking up, the forest gave him almost a safe feeling, the receding light looming out. In another state of mind, that thought wouldn't even cross his mind, he would have thought himself crazy. But now, Ron was preoccupied with his thoughts to feel a sense of fear and foreboding.

He collapsed on a rock by the edge, folding his hands on his knees. _Look at where I've gotten… what have I got to show for it? I'm a nobody, only a somebody by association. Nothing for myself…_ A sigh escaped his lips.

His eyes drifted to the small inconspicuous path that led into the Forest. _Hagrid probably made it with the countless times he's gone in there. _In an effort to distract himself from thinking suicidal thoughts (not serious but still depressing), Ron got off the rock and walked into the forest

* * *

_That was smart…_ He had been in the forest for a few hours by his watch, the pathway light only a few feet in front by his wand-light. He was lost, every tree looking identical to the one beside it, having lost the path soon after his expedition. _What a fine mess you've gotten yourself into Ron. Now someone will have to come rescue you. They'll be revered and you'll be the idiot who got lost._

Stumbling into a clearing, Ron slightly fell to the floor, catching himself from face-planting with the floor with his extended arms. The thick foliage let in little light, but from the patches, Ron could tell there was a full moon out. The ground was bare and free of snow, the trees prohibiting any from landing here. _The air's slightly warmer here because of the dense trees._

Ron checked his watch. _12:32. Everyone's sleeping now. No one will come looking for me till morning and they don't know I'm in here in the first place. It will take them hours to find me once they start._ Exhaustedly, he drug himself to the base of a large tree and drew his coat and scarf closer. He'd have to sleep here for the night, conserve his strength before he tried to get out by himself again. _I wish I learnt that spell Hermione thought Harry, the compass-spell??_ That would have gotten him out of here hours ago. He could have been in his nice warm bed in the boys' dorms. Why didn't he listen to her? Oh yeah, because he's also hard-headed. _I really need an attitude change._

A rustle in the bushes to his right drew his attention, his thought-process temporarily stopped. Slowly taking out his wand, he peered into the darkness behind the bushes, careful not to make any sudden movements. _I just hope it's not one of Aragog's babies._ A shudder racked his body. He really couldn't deal with those… _monsters _right now.

The bushes rustled again, a thought suddenly hitting Ron. _Never mind mutant spiders. If this creature is deadly, they might not even find me in the morning._ Drawing all the courage he could in his body, his face fixed into a determined grimace. _It's now or never, Ron. Give them a story to remember._

Getting up, Ron moved to the centre of the clearing, in case he was attacked from another direction. Facing the moving bush, he took a defensive stance, wand at the ready. The bush rustled again as if to taunt him. _**You don't know what you've gotten yourself into, dear boy. **_

**Breathing…in…out…in.** That's what Ron heard, the rustling suddenly halted, as if the bush knew he was watching it. Lowering the wand, Ron looked out, trying his hardest to see but couldn't risk lighting his wand. He was soon rewarded with what came out of the bushes a few seconds later.

* * *

_**A/N: I really have never heard of a Time-turner story where Ron went by himself. If there is, please someone tell me, I'd like to read it. If not, this will be the first. Please review.**_

Also, should the thing in the bushes be something good or bad. Please message me so i can write the next chap.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Snapping jaws disrupted the calm, before a hunched figure lunged from the bushes. Ron just had a few seconds to run from under its shadow, but that's all he needed. The malnourished figure, all twelve ribs clearly seen, the numerous scratches and gashes across its body, the drool pooling around its maw and the ground below. The force of his jump caused the creatures to slide across the clearing, skid marks made in the dirt.

This creature craved blood, the tension in the air thick as he observed his prey from afar. They circled around the clearing, keeping at least a few yards between them, sizing each other up. This was definitely a werewolf, Ron noticed. His features were more feral than humane but there were still some distinct characteristics, like the fact that occasionally it would switch from 2 legs to 4 while moving.

This was one werewolf that didn't have the privilege of Wolfsbane Potion, the potion that would keep him sane during the full moon. His bloodshot eyes focused on every movement Ron made. He felt like he hadn't had blood in days. He wasn't going to let his prey go now.

Ron knew he had a slim chance of getting out of this alive, and with this epiphany, he ran from the creature into the darkness, the werewolf quick on his heels. His rasping breath filled the emptiness in front of Ron's vision, the snarling creature getting louder every second. _This is it! Oh God, oh God, oh God!_

Tripping on an exposed tree root, Ron fell to the floor. He examined his surroundings; this was definitely the same clearing from before, the scratches on the floor and trees still evident. Panting, he got back up quickly, looking into the darkness. The werewolf's golden eyes stared back, getting bigger every second till the creature burst into the makeshift arena. _This is definitely it!_

Ron faced his demon, a figurative manifestation of his internal struggle. This was his moment. _God must be trying to tell me something._ A snarl snapped him back to reality before the creature lunged again. "_**Reducto" **_Ron screamed, slamming the werewolf into the ground a few feet away. It got back up again and charged at his prey. _**"Stupefy"**_, the spell bounced off the werewolf's coat as he kept coming. _**"Reducto",**_ Ron tried again, hoping it would work again. The werewolf saw the spell and dodged it. He jumped into air and Ron was frozen in fear. _Daily Prophet headlines, teen-aged boy found mangled outside Hogwarts._

"_**Transporto a periculosus"**__**1**_a voice called out through the air. A split-second later, a vortex opened above the clearing, the air getting sucked upwards. Leaves and twigs flew up and the werewolf stopped short. He landed in front of Ron and stared up at the swirling maelstrom above the pair.

A strange bright light shone from the center of the vortex, blinding Ron until all he saw was… **white.**

"**Astrum rector vestri via tener unus"****2** the voice said to the wind. The werewolf stood perplexed. His prey had gotten away. Another light went off, a soft flash, but that was enough to send him running now. Something big was happening.

* * *

**1**** "Send him away from danger"**

**2**** "May the stars guide your way, young one"**

* * *

A/N: the voice from the same chap is not that same as this one (or you it could be but i'm not intending it to be). That was intentionally the werewolf's thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary: Everyone else has gone back in time and hooked up with someone: Hermione, Ginny, even Neville!! What's wrong with me? **What am I not doing?

Disclaimer: I do not own Ron, the Marauders, etc. But I do own the O/C, which will come in later chaps.

KEY:

_"words" _- thoughts

**Sounds, special words

* * *

A/N: This is the first thing I've written in quite awhile. By some stroke of genius, i was able to produce this at midnight last night. I hope you enjoy. Please review.

* * *

****CHAPTER 3**

_**Thud!**_ The once floating body fell from the air onto the cold, dirty ground. Ron pushed himself on his hands and quickly scrambled to his feet, his body sore. His eyes wildly searched the clearing for his attacker. _"This is the same clearing but where's the werewolf?..." _The ground was scratch-free as well, giving no implications of a scuffle, which Ron found odd.

_"I have to get out of here before that wolf smells me out." _Picking a random direction and hoping it was the right way, Ron traversed blindly through the darkness. Passing many protruding branches and brambles, Ron's pants were torn and the exposed skin soon became red from constant irritation. Still, Ron moved forward. He had to get out of this eternal darkness that was looming behind him and inviting him forward.

Ron's head grew light. It had to be at least 6 hours since he had last eaten, which was at dinner, which he had just picked at in his dejected state. The foliage turned slightly greener around him as the sun climbed through the blue sky, though Ron couldn't see the colours. It was still grey under the trees, the leaves blocking out most of the light. _"Am I even getting anywhere?"_

The wind was picking up. The blanketing effect of the thick forest kept out most the cold but didn't stop the occasional gale from swiping through the tree trunks. Ron held himself, rubbing his hands on his arms through the coat fabric. Tying his scarf tighter around his mouth, leaving only a sliver for his eyes, he thought, _"What I wouldn't give for a nice hot chocolate right about now."_

He ambled aimlessly, tripping up on various oddly placed branches and twigs because of his obscured vision. _"Will I ever get out? Will I be found? And by what?" _He was so preoccupied in his daunting thoughts; his foot hit another ill-placed rock jutting out from the ground. Without time for any proper message to stop him from falling, Ron's arms flailed in the air. His forehead hit a thick tree root a few feet ahead. The concussion caused Ron to black out as he lay in the mess of roots and stones, the blood from his forehead staining the grass underneath him.

* * *

"Aah, you've woken up." Blearily, Ron opened his eyes but quickly shut them. _"So bright." _His head felt like needles were pricking him from all sides. Fighting the pain, he tried again, squinting from behind his eyelids at his surroundings.

It was the Hospital Wing in all its resplendent sterile glory! Someone had found him out there in the forest. He had no idea how long he had been out but it must have been awhile. In the forest, it had just been turning gray but it could have been later owing to the disorienting darkening effect of the overly thick forest. He was no longer freezing being tucked nicely under the blankets, which had been induced with a heating charm. Bright sunlight also helped to warm the room. Streaming through the windows, the light was bouncing off the polished floors, the mirrors above each of the beds and the metal trays of instruments by their sides.

"Son, how are you feeling?" Looking towards the source of the voice, it took a few seconds for Ron to register exactly what he was seeing.

It was a slightly aging man, maybe just beginning his 5th decade of life. He had curly ginger hair that was now being dotted with silver. He sported a few wrinkles around his eyes and the corners of his mouth but at his age, who didn't? Distinguishingly, a small wart sat on the edge of his nose, but instead of marring his face, it seem to accentuate the man's mortality and aged wisdom. He bore a similar likeness to someone Ron had previously seen but he couldn't place the face at the moment.

"Son, do you know where you are?" the man asked another question to Ron's silence. He reached out to touch Ron's shoulder. Ron's eyes grew alert, the touch felt so strange. It was as if he had just regained feeling to his body, it felt strange to even exist below his neck.

With a little more effort than necessary, Ron got the gears in his head to work to try and formulate an answer to the man's constant queries (although it had only been three). His throat burned when he tried to speak though, causing only a raspy puff of air to escape his throat.

Ron's face heated up in embarrassment. He couldn't even form a word to answer the man who had seemingly rescued him from the Forbidden Forest.

The man smiled serenely at Ron, ignoring his faint blush, as if that reaction was expected from him. He produced a glass of water in his other hand seemingly out of thin air and propped Ron up to help him to drink. After Ron had imbibed almost the whole glass, the man helped him to lie back down, placing the glass on the side table.

Clearing his throat, Ron said, "Thank you, Sir."

"No problem, son. Now maybe we can get some answers, though you seem to have already answered my first somewhat and you seem to be in no more danger. Let's start with, do you know where you are."

"I'm at Hogwarts' Hospital Wing, aren't I?" Ron answered uncertainly. He sat up suddenly in the bed, his head throbbing in resistance of the action. Ron clutched his head as the pain subsided. Maybe, he had been found by the wrong people, the kind who friend you up with glasses of water but eat your brains afterwards. _"Great Ron. You've been successfully kidnapped by your own fault."_

"Why yes, you'd be correct. But my current confusion is how do you know this? To my knowledge, only Hogwarts students have seen the inside of these walls. You are still within schooling age, so you are not a past student, but I have never seen you here before and believe me when I say I've seen many students."

"What are you talking about, Sir? I'm a 6th year Gryffindor student. I was just at dinner last night, or at least before I got lost in the Forbidden Forest. And I can't say that I've seen you before either."

"I can see that you are a Gryffindor from your uniform and scarf but this just helps to heighten my suspicion. If you were a student, you would have definitely seen me, if not I you by some old-age forgetfulness. I've taught here for over 25 years."

"None of this makes any sense," Ron sighed defeatedly, dropping back on his pillows, his eyes closed. Opening one eye in the direction of the man, he asked, "By the way, who are you, Sir?"

"Why young lad, this may just prove that you are not who you claim to be or you've been living under a rock for some time. I seem to be quite known from within these halls to across the land. I rarely have the pleasure of introducing myself personally. Son, my name is Albus Dumbledore."


End file.
